Spring Flowers and Toxic Masculinity

Flowering Quince

I just tried to order a new wheelie bin for our rubbish collection. I noticed yesterday that ours, which has long been split along the sides, now has a big hole in it where two splits converged to make a wedge-shaped opening. It's big enough for rats to get through, and maybe even for foxes, so the bin must be replaced.

I looked online how to make this request and was told to log in to the council web site, which I did. I entered my address, blah blah blah, only to be told that although I could get a green recycling bin online, I had to call for a black rubbish bin. Why?!

As my mother used to say, "Everything has to be done at least twice."

The bins are split because our erstwhile upstairs neighbors, the Russians, used to pack about 600 pounds of renovation debris into them every week. Now that the Russians are gone, our rubbish collection is lighter than it's ever been, but we're still living with their legacy -- the damaged bins.

Comfrey

The pictures today show some of what's blooming in the garden. I couldn't work outside as much as I would have liked yesterday, because it got rainy in the afternoon, but I still managed to repot another plant. I also watered everything indoors and did some houseplant maintenance.

Clematis in the neighbor's garden

Snake's Head Fritillary, aka Checkerboard Lily

Grape Hyacinths

Bergenia

Last night, we watched Louis Theroux's new documentary about the manosphere on Netflix. In it, he interviews various guys who would once have been dismissed as mere douchebags, but who now -- through the power of the internet -- have become wealthy social media stars. We have created a culture where saying offensive, obnoxious things is enough to make people rich and famous -- and the more offensive they are, the more rich and famous they get.

I was reminded of a paragraph in a New Yorker article about Stephen Fry that I also happened to reed this weekend:

Once, he was an enthusiastic user of Twitter, but his optimism about social media has waned: “It’s like the opening of the canal system—a wonderful method of transport, you can get stuff made in Birmingham and get it to the sea,” he said. “Then, before you know it, it’s full of rusting Tesco trolleys and turds.”

I thought Theroux handled his toxic (or to be generous, misguided) interviewees quite skillfully. They were obviously wary of him and his motives, but he still managed to challenge them and ask awkward questions, sometimes in front of their girlfriends or de facto spouses. Dave turned to me at one point and said, "Louis Theroux is brave." Which is true.